Autumn Evening Prayer
by The Fragile Capricorn
Summary: Perhaps it was because of the lack of better judgment, because Mitsuru elected to invite Yukari out without making it seem like a date, despite the fact that she was having a hard time keeping her feelings to herself. They were, after all, only friends.


**[Autumn Evening Prayers]  
**Mitsuru Kirijo & Yukari Takeba

* * *

Mitsuru didn't know where to stand. In between the long talks, the constant comforting, the welcome companionship, and the times they made each other laugh, she fell in love. Of course, she wouldn't admit it. To anyone. To the world. What would everyone think if they knew?

It wasn't the problem, however. The problem was that her own personal lovesick fantasies melded so seamlessly with reality that she was afraid she might do something to Yukari that would monumentally shock her. Or worse.

She waited by the entrance of Chagall Café. She tapped her boots impatiently. She crossed her arms, bit her lip, flipped her hair a few times. Part of her wanted to check her phone, see if Yukari had texted and she just didn't notice (which would be impossible, as she had her phone on vibrate _and _loud), perhaps call Yukari. Part of her didn't. She was feeling irritated. Frustrated that Yukari was running late for their date. Except it wasn't a date. It was just two best friends hanging out, plain and simple, at the local mall.

But that was just the problem.

Mitsuru's brain knew – and her brain knew just about everything – that this was nothing more than two best friends spending some nice, quality best friend time together. Her heart, however, was painfully adamant into making her _feel _that this was a date. And Mitsuru, however sensible and smart and careful-thinking she was, just wanted to follow her heart, for a change.

Said heart skipped a beat, when Mitsuru saw Yukari in the crowd, walking ever so slowly towards her. Mitsuru was frustrated, but she was glad. At least Yukari didn't abandon the date. Except it wasn't really a date.

A hug. Greetings. Some smiles. Some self-control on Mitsuru's part (she had to admit grudgingly to herself that she _wanted _to kiss Yukari's cheek, after the hug. But no, they weren't going out). A little deciding where they should go for the moment. Finally, after little deliberation, they went inside Chagall Café. The Pheromone Coffee apparently made one look more charming. Mitsuru was just afraid she would lose herself.

Of course, they couldn't stay silent forever. Steaming cups of coffee in hand and a really cozy booth, and finally they began to start a conversation. At least, Mitsuru found her tongue loosening considerably. Caffeine was her alcohol, as she didn't drink, really. The coffee wasn't going to get her drunk, but she was quickly falling off-guard, talking about so many things, not checking herself when she laughed louder than she ought to, and when she said more than she should have.

Heightened senses. Floodgates inside her opened, letting the adrenaline course through to mingle with the caffeine that was already working wonders on her nerves. Yukari had started to ease into conversation when she saw that Mitsuru was finally beginning to relax, and now laughter and jokes and silly stories were being traded freely, and Mitsuru didn't mind that she was making a fool of herself, reminiscing all the times when she made mistakes.

With keen eyes and the rush of a deadly mix of caffeine and adrenaline, Mitsuru was awakened. The world around her was more alive, and the noise in the café seemed turned up. All those were ignorable and in the backdrop, however. In front of her was Yukari Takeba, the first person to see through the fogged-up glass that was Mitsuru's heart. The first person to break that. The first person to melt her. Mitsuru was cold as ice. Yukari was the warm sunshine. Both were unhealthy for each other, but Mitsuru found the warmth and the melting highly welcoming. She acquiesced to it.

Thoughts running rampant and wild inside her head, heart beating aggressively inside her chest, to be pacified only by one small thing – if she could only, quietly, _subtly _inch her hand across the table and lightly brush Yukari's fingers, then perhaps the warmth that she craved would eat her up like she always wanted. Then perhaps some flame would ignite, a fire so fierce it would consume everything. Then perhaps, the objective of their date would be realized.

Except it wasn't a date.

And all too soon, it was over. The cups had been drained, the talk had died down, the sky was a deep black void, and the night was deepening. Yes, of course, she'd like to go back to the dorm now. Yes, she won't be cold, she has her coat. Yes, she enjoyed the bonding time.

(If only it lasted stronger. If only the bonding was better.)

Their steps led them out of the café and into the cool fall evening. Few people were around, and only because the bar had already been opened. Heavy beats escaped the confines of the venue whenever the door opened, breaking the silence of the evening with a shattering, heart-stopping blast. It didn't compare to the monster raging inside Mitsuru's chest, though.

The walk home was peaceful, the streets lined with lamps glowing softly and illuminating the almost-bare trees. Every now and then, a dog barked. Every now and then, a star would shine so bright in the sky that it would break through the choking light of the city. It was on these stars that Mitsuru wished as they went home, again and again and again, to please give her the courage, please let her be desperately cold enough to hold onto Yukari because she just couldn't keep it in anymore.

Mitsuru's name spoken quietly stopped her in her tracks. They were already in front of Naganaki Shrine, and Yukari wanted to do something there. Pray, she said. Perhaps Mitsuru would pray too, to whatever god or spirit resided there, to calm down the raging inside her or else do something about it to finally ease her pain.

And Mitsuru did. She fell in beside Yukari, standing in front of the shrine, eyes closed, lips moving to utter syllables unheard – thoughts that never quite made their way out of the mind. The autumn breeze picked up, and Mitsuru opened her eyes to the evening's sparse light, and to Yukari regarding her with a smile.

There was a difference between being brave and being courageous.

"What did you pray for, senpai?"

"To have courage."

Mitsuru didn't know where her audacity came from (maybe the cold, maybe the coffee, maybe the adrenaline, maybe she just wanted to get it over with), but hesitantly, she stepped closer to the a rather confused Yukari, wrapped her arms around the other girl, and planted a long kiss on her forehead.

Not quite the romantic thing she had in mind, but Mitsuru wasn't hurrying. Slow but steady, and calm and collected. Moments passed with Mitsuru's lips on Yukari's forehead, and the feeling still burned and lingered when she broke off, looking at Yukari with pleading eyes close to tears, hoping, _hoping _that Yukari would understand. _Please understand._

There was no response, but Yukari was still in her arms, and Mitsuru could feel her trembling ever so slightly, shocked and uncertain. There were no words between them, and the wind helped to fill the silence by whistling so loudly, so violently, rushing into them and around them.

_What did you pray for?_

To have courage. _Courage. _

Mitsuru took a deep breath. Her words came out in a whisper. I have courage. Will you let me, Yukari? I need you to make me feel warm. Please.

The movement was almost unnoticeable and incredibly slight, but Yukari's lips parted to let out her word of assent, breathing Mitsuru's name in the same breath, without the honorific. Without any reprieve.

Yes, Mitsuru.

Now the adrenaline was like wildfire and the caffeine was like the tonic for eternal happiness, and the prayers were answered and the wishes on the star came true, and another tug of courage and another tug of pleading and their lips were pressed together, gently but firmly, a thousand words left unspoken in breath but went over the distance, anyway.

Perhaps it _had _been a date, after all.

* * *

**_Note_ **_This was originally posted on my account at Archive of Our Own, under the name 'lucavale.' _


End file.
